All the Sorrows we have seen
by Wanhedaa
Summary: "We could never really grieve…" Clarke whispered. "There just… wasn't time…" Bellamy agreed. "And that isn't fair. They deserved better." The blonde nodded a little. "This life isn't fair." A humorless laugh left Bellamy's lips. "Life is never fair." Or the scene of Bellamy's and Clarke's journey from Polis back to Arkadia JRoth robbed us of between 4x01 and 4x02


_**This idea came to me immediately after the first episode of season 4 aired. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one who had great expectations for at least one scene between Bellamy and Clarke on their way back to Arkadia but, of course, once more we were disappointed. But what else is new?**_

 _ **Anyway, so I started writing and then I got distracted by my other Bellarke muli chapter story and never finished it until recently when I found the beginning I had already written again. So here it is and it turned out longer than I had planned originally but whatever.**_

 _ **Bellarke can be found if you squint, just like in the show (And by squint I mean, if you have common sense lol)**_

 _ **I own nothing but the plotline, shocker I know, and I don't make any money off of this (sadly I'm broke)**_

 _ **Now, I hope you enjoy this story and let me know what you think! xoxo**_

* * *

Hades and Persephone. Gods of the underworld; of death and destruction and misery. Their story was twisted and messed up and disturbing. It felt like a lifetime ago that Bellamy had read about them. About Hades who fell in love with Persephone and they took a fall together. He never understood how they could have fallen in love, taking into consideration all the things that were going on in their lives, all the things they had done, all the demons that must have been haunting them.

It felt like a lifetime ago that he had been crouched on the library's floor and read page for page, memorized them word for word, so he could later on tell his sister, tell her about the heroes of old age, about their struggles and the villains. He told her stories with happy endings because he always believed that was what she deserved.

He still remembered every word, like it was burned into his memory. Whenever he had read about history he had imagined himself to be the hero, to be Augustus or Hercules, he saw himself saving his sister, making this world a better place, getting the girl and at some point he saw himself being just genuinely happy. He saw himself smiling, next to Octavia, with their mother at his other side, the sun shining down on earth, they were breathing fresh air, they were innocent, they didn't have to hide, they were together. They were just, simply, happy.

Never would he have thought he would turn out to be Hades. The worst of them all. With blood stained hands, hurricanes in his mind and a path of destruction in his wake.

His grip tightened a little on the steering wheel.

"Bellamy…"

He turned his head and there were blue eyes, blonde hair, a soft expression. A bitter taste filled his mouth. Even worse, he had found his very own Persephone. On second thought, the Gods' love might not be that hard to understand.

"We should take a break and sleep. We'll reach Arkadia tomorrow."

He just nodded and focused back on the road ahead to find a place to stop the car. Clarke's eyes never left his face though, something he was more than aware of. Just like the worried note that could be found within them. Since they had departed from Polis and gotten in the car, they had barely exchanged a word. Not because they had nothing to talk about anymore or because they didn't want to talk. It was rather because for now they both desperately needed it. Some time alone with their thoughts, some time to sort things out with themselves and to come to terms with what had happened.

Complete silence enclosed them and when had been the last time that they had been surrounded by complete silence? They had been forced to fight and scream and kill. Cries and gun shots was all they had been hearing lately. They had seen enough blood and death to last more than one lifetime.

Somewhere between rescuing their people and fighting a war they never wanted to even be in, they had become these people. Persephone and Hades. Gods of Death and Destruction. Wanheda and her good little knight. She never wanted to wear the crown, he never wished to be her armor, they never asked for this. She just wanted to help her people. He just wanted to save his sister. They ended up watching a whole mountain fall, killing people, taking lives. They ended up doing things they weren't ready for, unspeakable things, no one could ever forgive them. And that was their life now and there was nothing they could do about that.

Once they had settled down for the night and started a fire, Bellamy had offered to take the first watch. Even though he had been the one driving, he knew Clarke barely closed an eye either. It was too loud inside of her head probably. He knew that problem all too well. The bags under her eyes, the haunted look on her face and the shaking of her hands were signs he was too familiar with. Side effects of being a _hero_ , he guessed.

His eyes scanned the blonde girl one more time, his princess, the world's Wanheda. So much weight was lying on her petit shoulders and he wondered how she managed to still stand up straight. It wasn't fair. No, this world wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for everyone to blame Clarke, it wasn't fair for her to leave him behind, and it sure as hell wasn't fucking fair when it took everything away from him.

He tore his eyes away from her. He lost his mother, his sister, Gina… Oh God, he had failed them. All of them. Because of him his mother had been floated, Octavia had been locked up and Gina had lost her life. Because over and over again he willed himself to trust, whether it was himself or Shumway or Echo. And each time someone had to pay with their life. If it wasn't for him, they all could still be alive. He was a murderer and a monster.

He swallowed hard as he felt hot tears form in his eyes when suddenly Clarke made a sound. Immediately he snapped back into alertness, wiping away the tears and looked back at her. She was turning over, her eyes still closed but her face looked distressed. It was probably a nightmare. He had to suppress a dry laugh. Of course. After all he couldn't even remember the last time he had managed to sleep through one night without waking up, shaking, screaming, crying.

"No… Lexa…" Her words were nothing more than a mumble but he understood her anyway. Now he would rather have not though, her words sending a sting through his heart. He had been guessing at Clarke's feelings for quite a while even before her confession but that didn't make it any easier.

It started when she forgave her even though she had left all of them to die; when her ' _we'_ turned into 'Lexa and I'; when she left him again and again to be with her…

"No…" She started to sound more and more anxious, so Bellamy got up and crawled over to her, shaking her gently. "Clarke…"

"No!" She turned over, almost hitting him but he managed to dodge her punch.

"Clarke!" This time he was more insistent and it worked. She jerked awake, suddenly sitting up. Her eyes were frantically checking her surroundings but she visibly relaxed when she realized where she was and who was with her.

"You okay?" His voice was still a little horse so he cleared his throat.

She nodded slowly. "Yes." She paused a second, watching him. "Are you?"

He bit his lip. _No_. "Fine."

She didn't look convinced but to his relief she didn't ask further. "Okay…"

"You should get some more rest." He finally said. Obediently she placed herself back on her made up bed but didn't immediately close her eyes. She kept them focused on him a little longer. "Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

He laughed a little. The last person who asked him that question must have been Octavia when she was about five or six years old. It was weird. It somehow made Clarke sound very young, without all these scars and horrors at the back of her mind.

"I don't know…" He still said. What was he supposed to tell her?

"Please!" A cracked grin appeared on her lips. She just wanted to hear his voice, to make herself believe that he was actually with her and that she was safe.

"I don't know any good ones," he lied.

"I don't care."

He stopped for a second. Maybe there was a story he could tell her. A true one. One that he had been wanting to tell her for quite some time now. "Alright…" He therefore gave in, settling into his place a little more comfortable too. He had no idea if this was a good idea or not but what did he really have to lose? He took a deep breath, eyed Clarke one more time but finally decided to focus on the small flames in front of them before he began with a low voice:

"Once upon a time there was a boy and there was a girl. She was very sweet and pure and good-hearted. He was… he was irrational, he made lots of mistakes, and there was more blood on his hands than stars in the sky. They were very different but they met, by accident more than by anything else. Under different circumstances their paths may never have crossed but they did and they instantly fell for each other. It seemed perfect at first. They worked well together and even though there was a whole lot of darkness in that boy, the girl never struggled to see the good. She paid attention to him, noticed things about him, cared for him, gave him a feeling he had not felt in a very long time. He knew he didn't deserve her, he knew she deserved better. She deserved someone whole, someone honorable, someone worthy of who she was. And he never understood why she choose him out of all the people she could have chosen. Everyone agreed on the fact that she deserved better but she didn't care. Her love for him was way too great.

And the boy tried. He really tried to live up to the expectations and be worthy of the girl. But it was in vain. Because no matter what he did or said or tried to convince himself of, deep down he knew something. He knew something everyone else seemed to sense too. There was someone else in his life. Another girl.

She wasn't physically present at the time he met his girlfriend but she was still there, in his mind, in his heart. She was buried deep within him, she was a part of him and she would always be. He would never be able to get her out of his system but God, he tried. He tried to burn the memory of her, to bleed out every emotion he felt for her, to scream every bit of her out of his lungs. He wanted to cut her out of his heart, erase her from his mind, destroy the picture he still held of her. He wanted to hate her. He wanted to hate her so much that each night he laid in bed, he was practicing the words. _I hate you. I hate you. I hate you_. For when he was going to see her again.

 _If_ he was going to see her again. That tore him apart. What was he going to do if he never saw his girl again? No matter what outcome of his life he imagine, she was there, in each one of them, as a lover, as a friend, as a stranger. She was just always there. The catch was though that she… she was as complicated and complex as a mathematical equation he never even understood back in school. She couldn't be simply described by words like kind or pure or even evil or destructive. She was so much more than that. To him, she was a whole universe, he had seen her at her best and admired her; he had seen her at her worst and started to adore her. The thing was though that she left him.

She left him for good reasons, possibly but they were very hard for him to grasp. That's why he was mad at her because after everything that they had been through, heartbreaks and hurricanes, she left him alone in the wreckage to deal with the aftermath. He felt weak and helpless and desperate and he had no one to lean on, except for the girl who showed up then. And that's why he clung onto her like she was his lifeline because she was all he had for some time.

Until suddenly word of his girl surfaced again and he was immediately on it. As always, when she was in trouble, he was there, no matter what. They were like magnets, no matter how hard they tried, they just couldn't let go. And everyone knew, even the girl. Even the girl knew that this boy had more love to offer than he was giving her because there were parts that would always solely belong to the other girl.

He was just praying that she still knew how much he appreciated her and that there was a part of him that loved her, in fact. She was just too good for him and things between them couldn't last. She offered stability, support and safety but he still ran and chased the other girl's chaos, disaster and horrors. For reasons even unknown to him.

In the end, the girl died. She died and it was the boy's fault. She died because the boy put his girl first. And he knew it was going to happen, he knew she was endangered but the thought of his girl being in danger worried him more and he chose her even though she had put him down countless times before. He simply couldn't resist. His devotion to her was just… it was too strong. When she needed him, he would be there. It had been that way since he met her and he knew that would never change. So when people asked him about his regrets, he would tell them about his blood soaked hands, about his haunted dreams, about his shaking hands. But not once did he tell them about putting his girl first because he knew, if he were given a second chance… he just do it all over again…"

When he was done, he kept his eyes fixed on the flames. He was scared to look at her and see her reaction. She was quiet for so long that he wondered if she had fallen asleep again but when he finally looked over at her, she was still looking at him.

"The story was sad." She whispered.

Bellamy looked down on his hands. "Yeah, well, it is based on some true events…"

"Can I still say something about it?"

He made a face. "The point was for you to fall asleep, not to discuss what happens in it."

She shrugged a little. "Whatever. Now, are you going to listen?"

He wasn't sure what she was going to say but he was really curious so he nodded. "Fine. Go ahead."

"I don't think the boy is to blame for the girl's death."

What?! Was that really all she got from that story? Clearly, she had missed the point! "She died because I… because he wasn't there to protect her because he was too busy taking care of the other one."

"Still, I…"

"How would you know?" Bellamy interrupted, his tone suddenly much sharper than before. "You weren't there!"

Clarke stopped, her mouth still open, surprise on her face. For a moment she was just gaping, looking for the right words and she reminded him so much of the stranger he had met in Arkadia after she had bonded with the Grounders so much.

"I'm sorry…" She finally whispered. "I never wanted any of this to happen to you…"

He looked away and shook his head slightly. "It's not your fault…"

"Maybe not all of it but still…" They were quiet for another moment, neither one of them really knowing what to say until Clarke whispered: "Gina's death is not on you, Bellamy…"

He felt his heart stop and a new wave of pain rush over him. "I trusted Echo… Without me she would still be here…"

"That's not the way to look at it."

"As I said before, you weren't there. You don't know."

"You couldn't know that Echo couldn't be trusted…" She made another attempt but Bellamy shook his head.

"No, I couldn't. But I could have stayed with her, I could have been by her side, she wouldn't have been alone but do you know where I was?"

Clarke was silent but she had an idea.

"Yeah, I was at Polis, trying to save you."

"I'm sorry…" She whispered again. She knew these words weren't helpful at all. She had been forced to realize that herself. Those were just stupid words, one useless phrase against a thousand actions, a thousand crimes and dead bodies. But what else was she supposed to say? Bellamy Blake was a hero, in her mind, and she broke him. Oh God, what the hell had she done to him? "Bellamy, I…"

"I'm a monster, Clarke!" He interrupted her.

"No, you're not!" She sat up again, the tiredness that had made a home in her bones suddenly gone. She was not going to accept Bellamy thinking of himself as the villain of this story again.

"I killed so many innocent people…" His voice was barely whisper and Clarke felt a sting in her heart at these words.

"Then tell me, Bellamy, what am I?!" Her voice was drenched in bitterness. This was her greatest fear. In all of the pain and the mistakes and the destruction, Bellamy had always been by her side. People admired her for her sins, they called her a commander, a leader, a God. But wasn't she really just a murderer with a guilty conscience?

His jaw set and it took him a moment before he replied: "You're not…"

"I killed people, too. Wells died after I hated him for years even though he didn't do anything wrong, I couldn't protect Charlotte, I killed Finn, I let a bomb drop on TonDC, I pulled that lever in Mount Weather and the list goes on…" Saying all of these things made her painfully aware of all the things she had done, all the things that were on her.

But Bellamy was shaking his head. "That was different."

"How?" Clarke asked, unbelieving how he still found a way to justify her actions.

"You did what you had to do."

"For our people, that's the same that you did… So if you don't think that I am a monster then…"

"I left them all to die because I wanted to come for you and…"

"Bellamy!" Clarke interrupted him. "I let a whole city burn because I couldn't risk losing you… okay?"

He blinked, like these were news to him. And they probably were, she had never had time to tell him how the decision was made in her head the second she realized what evacuating the city would mean. It could harm him and she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't have put him in any more danger than he already was. Simply the possibility of losing him was too much and she hadn't had one night's good sleep since he had left.

"What…?"

"You warned us about the bombing but if I had acted, they would have known we had someone inside…"

"You did it to protect me?" He sounded like he could hardly believe the words coming out of his own mouth but Clarke nodded. "Yes."

"Why?"

Clarke stopped. What was she supposed to tell him? She couldn't even explain to herself why. He was just someone she knew she couldn't give up. She couldn't lose him. He was a part of her and she knew she wouldn't survive his death. "Because I care about you… more than most of the others…" She finally admitted.

Bellamy obviously didn't know what to reply to that since he only stared at her in wonder, like he did every time Clarke hinted at his importance to her. "I only got Lexa and me out…" She admitted but immediately regretted it. Saying the girl's name was still painful. Each time she heard it, it felt like a knife ripping right through her heart.

"Of course, only Lexa…" There was a strange tone to his voice and she raised an eyebrow.

"Bellamy, I…"

He raised his hand. "It's fine. You don't need to justify anything in front of me. You loved her, so you got her out in time. It was the right choice."

She looked down at her hands. The _right_ choice. Had they ever made the right choice? Was it _right_ to exile Murphy? Was it _right_ to pull that lever in Mount Weather? Was it _right_ to leave? And who was she to judge? She had played God way too often. This wasn't her place.

 _Maybe there are no good guys._

"Tell me about her." She said suddenly, looking at the young man next to her with a certain desperation. She had left him. She had left him when he had needed her most. She had left him in the wreckage of her path of destruction. Yet, here they were when he had every right to hate her but instead he kept her alive. And she wanted to be part of him and his life again. She wanted to know him the way she once used to. He deserved someone who cared about every little detail and she wanted to be that person. She wanted to try, to try and be a good guy.

Bellamy looked a little surprised but when he started speaking after a second, his eyes were fixed on the dying down flame in front of them once more. "Gina was warm and good. She cared about everyone and she knew how much you meant to me and she just accepted it. She never gave me a hard time about it. She wanted me, exactly the way I am. I didn't have to pretend to be anything or anyone around her." His voice was low and it was almost like Clarke could also feel his pain. He paused for a few seconds before he continued: "You know, after… you were gone, I just spend nights at the bar, drinking and I'm pretty sure every normal girl would have made a run for it but not her. She knew how messed up I was and she didn't care… She still… she loved me."

Clarke felt a wave of guilt rush over her.

"I have this one memory of her…" He closed his eyes, like he was seeing what he was talking about again. "It was in early spring, the sun was shining for the first time after all these cold months… And I wanted some time to myself so I went down to the stream and she was there and she looked so beautiful… For the first time in a really long time, I believed I could be okay again… She made me believe that I was actually worth saving…"

He turned his head away but Clarke had already seen the tears on his cheeks. Still, she pretend not to notice. The urge to touch him grew overwhelming. She wanted to show him she cared but she didn't know how, so instead she simply whispered: "I'm sorry…" There were so many things she was sorry for. She was sorry for leaving him; for not stopping him from pulling that lever with her; for not being the person he needed her to be. She was sorry for letting him down time and time again; for sending him away; and for hurting him. There were not enough words or excuses in this world to ever make anything right again and it broke her heart.

"I know." _Forgiveness is hard for us_. She didn't deserve forgiveness. Not for what she had done to Bellamy Blake. He just wanted to save his sister. "It's your turn now."

"What?" Clarke blinked and Bellamy shrugged. "Lexa. What was she really like?"

Clarke couldn't help herself from smiling a little. It hurt a little less each day but it hurt. And maybe it was the kind of pain that would never fully disappear, just the way Well's death would always hurt her and her Dad's and Finn's. They didn't deserve what they got but unfortunately survival wasn't about fairness.

"She was more than just the ruthless leader she pretended to be. When you were alone with her, she could be… loving and caring and soft. She let her guard down and she wanted peace. She saw reason and hope when others had their eyes closed shut. That's what I admired about her. She cared about her people so deeply, she wouldn't give up. And she understood me in a way that no one else did, at that time. Like, when I felt like everyone else would judge me and hate me for my choice, I knew I could talk to her and she would understand…" Letting go was a long process, as she had been forced to learn over and over again. She knew she wasn't going to wake up one morning and magically stop missing her but it would get easier like that. Talking about her and them didn't sting so much anymore and picturing her face didn't simply make her want to cry. Maybe at some point remembering wouldn't feel like losing her all over again each time. Maybe at some point remembering wouldn't make her feel like she couldn't breathe anymore.

"I'm sorry too…" It was an echo of another time and she looked at him. He probably remember the last time he had used these words too. _I'm sorry too_ and he handcuffed her and tried to lock her away. They had all made mistakes.

 _Maybe there are no good guys_.

She gave him a weak smile and she was pretty sure he didn't buy it but he didn't comment on it either. He always seemed to know when it was best to not press with her.

"We could never really grieve…" Clarke whispered. With everything going on, she realized, never before had she really had time to talk and think about Lexa the way she had just done. All the time, it was about surviving and war and attempted peace treaties. It was never about what they felt or hoped or wished.

"There just… wasn't time…" Bellamy agreed. "And that isn't fair. They deserved better."

The blonde nodded a little. "This life isn't fair."

A humorless laugh left Bellamy's lips. "Life is never fair."

And that was that. And he was right about that. Because _love is weakness_ wasn't fair and _I bear it so they don't have to_ wasn't fair and _my sister, my responsibility_ wasn't fair.

With a deep breath, Clarke let herself sink back on her back, looking up at the stars. Even though the time they had lived amongst them wasn't that far back she felt like it was a different lifetime. They all had been different people up there. Innocent kids who had been thrown into a war they didn't start. And that wasn't fair either. She shifted her eyes back towards the boy next to her. His dark curls and his freckles and brown eyes had turned into her home. He was what she had thought of during her lonely and cold nights out in the woods, when all she wanted to do was go home, his picture had flashed in front of her eyes. He was her home and she burned him down.

She closed her eyes before reaching out her hand. It was an offer more than anything else. If he wanted to, he could take her hand but if he wasn't ready, he didn't need to. This wasn't about her, this was about him. Still, she couldn't deny the feeling of warmth spreading out inside of her when she felt him lace his fingers with hers after a few moments.

"Have you ever thought about us in that way?" She silently asked, without really knowing why. She was also pretty sure she didn't need to clarify what she meant by _in that way_. He would know. This time, when he turned to look at her, she felt like he was actually seeing her for real as a somewhat bitter expression crossed his face. "Haven't you?"

Yes. No. I don't know. Maybe. What was she supposed to say? "I guess I was too scared."

"Scared?"

"Everyone I love, dies…" She whispered. "My Dad, Wells, Finn, Lexa… I…" She was insanely scared of losing him too. Losing him would be the last straw and she knew it. Losing him would end her in a way nothing else could, whatever that meant.

"Clarke, I won't. I won't leave you."

She nodded, blinking away the tears that had already started forming in her eyes. She was so sick of this. She didn't want to cry or scream or always say goodbye anymore. She just wanted to be happy for once. They looked at each other, a thousand unspoken apologies, confessions, feelings exchanged between them.

"I…" She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and appreciated him. She wanted him to know. He deserved to hear it. But for some reason she couldn't bring herself to say those three words. Maybe it was because she wasn't sure how to define these words with him. It wasn't romantic, she wasn't ready for that yet and she was pretty sure neither was he. Their wounds were still too fresh, too deep and hurt too much. They didn't have time to grieve yet. But it was more than platonically too. She loved Monty and Jasper and Octavia and Raven and all of the others but she loved him more. That wasn't a secret, everybody knew that but no one knew what it actually meant. Not even herself.

Bellamy put some pressure on her hand. "Good." He didn't need her to say it. He understood. "Because I do too."

This time she smiled a real smile and that felt weird somehow and strange but in a good way. "Good."

"But you should really go to sleep now." He half winked at her in his usual style and it made her stomach tingle. This was familiar, this was him and it was home. "We still have some miles to cover tomorrow."

"Okay." He gave her one of his half smiles, the ones he had always reserved for her only and that never failed to make her feel special. She closed her eyes after taking his sight in one last time. Honestly, it felt good knowing that when she opened them again, he would still be here. He wasn't going to be gone. She owed him more than she would ever be able to repay him.

"Thank you." She whispered and even though, she didn't open her eyes, she saw his smile in front of her.

"You're welcome, Princess."

It were small moments like these that made surviving, living worth it. Moments like these that made her think one day maybe they could be ready, they could heal and be whole again. Maybe that was the time they could finally be honest with each other after they had had time to grieve what they lost and forgive themselves for what they did and sew back together what had been brutally ripped apart inside them.

Maybe one day they could be together; not as Hades and Persephone or Wanheda and her good little knight or the princess and the rebel king. No, maybe one day they could just be Bellamy and Clarke, a boy and a girl and that would be enough. Maybe that point would not be today, maybe also not tomorrow or the day after that one. But maybe the day after that or the following day after that one. Yes, at some point they would find themselves again and then they could love each other the way they both would deserve to be loved again.


End file.
